Confessing for a Cause
by Kyd Chyme
Summary: Dave Karofsky hurt Kurt Hummel, but when Kurt finds himself in a dangerous situation, Karofsky realizes the only way to protect Kurt is to confess what really happened in the locker room that day... REVISED AND COMPLETE.


**I don't own Glee. At all. Also, this is a complete, revised version of something I did a while ago. This I like better.**

**...**

_He could take the beatings. His body was nothing, he'd say. Just a shell. HE was what was important. His _self_. Not his body. But now all he wanted was his body back. It was his and he didn't want this or him and he just wanted to go go go like it never happened. _

This isn't happening.

_Not him. He wasn't some helpless girl alone in an alley way. He was Kurt Hummel, from Lima, the land of nothingeverhappenshere suburbia. _

_But there he was. Pinned against a locker in a smelly room that had been full of sweaty boys not two hours ago._

"_Wait. Karofsky! Karofsky, stop! Stop it!"_

He didn't, wouldn't just stop.

"_Shut up, faggot." And then a large hand clawed around Kurt's torso, one wrapped around his waist like a vice; the other was pressing the back of Kurt's head into a metal locker. _

Stop_._

_Kurt struggled, but every time he would squirm loose, Karofsky would grip his hair and slam him back with a loud and dizzying, _Bam!

No no no.

This isn't happening. _Kurt tried to turn away from the other boy's touch. _No, no, no…_ Why had he followed Karofsky in here alone? What the hell did he think he could have done? He meant to corner the bully, call him out for all the crap he had pulled on Kurt. He was sick of being bullied and pushed around. He was _done_ with being Slushied and beat up. _No more_. Kurt wanted the over-sized Neanderthal to know he wasn't getting away with anything. _

"_I don't want this!" his voice was squeaking and cracking into embarrassingly weak pitches. E hated that. Hated sounding weak, being weak._

_Karofsky blinked rapidly, "But I want you." Kurt didn't like the way he looked. His eyes were hugely dilated and the skin of his face was flushed red with blood. _Too hot, _he thought. All the fleshy skin pressed against Kurt was searing to the touch. "I _like _you."_

Something wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.

"_Stop it!"_

_Kurt stared back at Karofsky with large, panicked eyes as the boy came back in for a sloppy kiss that only caught half of his mouth. His cries were partially muffled by the hard lips mashed into his. Everything was stuffy and too hot and too close. He couldn't breathe. Kurt felt like he was going to vomit._

Stop.

_One of Karofsky's knees abruptly came up between Kurt's legs, stopping right at his crotch. With a gasp Kurt tried to buckle in on himself. But it was only a natural reaction; no stunning pain came shooting up into his stomach. Dave Karofsky wasn't trying to beat him up. He was trying to do something much, much worse. _

He didn't even act like he knew what he was doing.

_Karofsky slid his knee up a bit higher, right into a territory far too personal for comfort. Kurt choked out a sort of strangled sob from his throat. "Stop, stop, stop…"_

_And then the football player pulled his mouth away from Kurt's neck and froze. The only sound was his victim's labored breathing as he tried to make himself taller, inching his way upwards from the other boy's pressed knee. _

"_Stop, stop, stop. Please, stop." _

Just stop.

_Karofsky was staring at Kurt, but his clamped eyes wouldn't meet his own now-terrified ones. He abruptly dropped Kurt onto the locker room's dirty linoleum floors. _

"_If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will kill you." His voice came out oddly calm, but the effect was lost when he turned on his heel and ran._

_But long after his tormentor left, the threat rang hard through Kurt's ears. "_If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you."

But at least he had stopped.

…

Three Months Later…

"Hey, Hummel."

Kurt gave a soft sigh and shifted his book bag so it hung on the shoulder that was closest to Evan. "Hi, Evan. Can I help you?" Evan was a new transfer to McKinley, having arrived only two months ago. It was rumored that the hockey coach personally asked the boy to join the team upon his arrival, something that normally never would have happened by mid-season.

Evan didn't seem to take the hint, but then he never did. Smiling brightly, he replied, "Well, yeah. See, Finn was looking for you. He was in the locker room when he asked…"

Kurt froze. He did _not_ go into that room. Not for anything.

The smile faded from Evan's lips until they pursed into an abrupt line. "He wanted you to take him to the hospital." _Except that. _At the look on Kurt's face he quickly added, "It's not bad, honest. He thinks that he broke one of his fingers towards the end of practice. I actually thought it looked more dislocated, not really broken, but same difference, right?"

Kurt looked at him with a dead-pan expression. "Yeah. Sure. I'm going to go check on him now."

He shrugged, "Okay." With that he fell into step with the slight boy.

"Did you need something else?"

"What? No, I just want to make sure he's okay."

Kurt looked at him critically.

"Alright, so Finn doesn't like me. Football and hockey don't get along. What else is new?" Evan kept his eyes forward as Kurt inclined a pale jaw attentively. "It all seems pretty stupid to me. I just transferred here. Why the rivalry?"

Kurt forced a smile. "Because, you're all testosterone-filled alpha dogs. It's beyond hope."

_I know you're just another bully._

"I'm not like that."

_Liar._

"Okay."

The teachers just _let_ the boy walk around hurting people because he was the new Ultimate Savior of the hockey team, which had been gaining popularity in light of the football team dealing with internal problems that kept them from being the school's rallying point.

No, he didn't trust this guy's motives at all. Kurt reached into his pocket and found Finn's number in his contacts. He felt a little guilty when Evan raised his eye brows at the contact's name. _Frankenteen_. He really should have changed that long ago.

"Hey, Finn, I heard about your hand."

"Hi, Kurt… and please don't say anything to anyone about this-the big game's next weekend, and that scout dude supposed to come..." Finn's voice sounded more embarrassed than in actual pain, which made Kurt wonder how his almost step-brother really did the damage. "Wait, how'd you know about my hand again?"

"Whitfield told me. You want me to drive you over to the hospital?"

"Uh, no, I don't want you too. No, I mean I don't need you to. I'm on my way with Puck right now, not that you're not a good driver or anything."

Kurt stared at him cell phone and frowned. "Okay, I'll see you later then. Let me know how it goes." And because he really couldn't help himself, he added, "And let Puck know that we got the new brake pads in for him, okay?"

Somewhere in the background Kurt heard a muffled, _Thank God_, to which Finn exclaimed, "Hey, wait!"

When he turned around to tell the football player Finn was already gone Kurt found himself greeted with open hallway. "Evan?" And then he was pulled from behind and shoved into the boy's locker room.

…

Kurt heard the tell-tale _click _of the locker room's door from half way across the dingy room. Everything smelled like metal and stale sweat. The lights were off.

"What the Hell?" Kurt demanded.

From the shadows Evan answered, "Oh, come on Hummel, you know what I want." If the villain in a horror flick had said that he would have laughed. But here, locked in the room where he'd been cornered before, it didn't seem particularly funny.

Evan reached out a single hand. "Don't touch me!"

"Why not? Come on, I'm not going to hurt you…I like you Kurt, and I think you can help me."

Kurt didn't say anything. He felt his throat closing in on its self. _No no no. _He just concentrated on the air flowing in and out of his nose.

_Not again. Never again. _

"I've had sex with a lot of girls, Kurt. I was trying so hard to _want_ them, but you just can't force yourself. You know that, I'm sure."

_You don't know anything._

Evan waited for a reaction. "I've had sex with a guy before. Once."

_Congratulations?_

"But it wasn't exactly pleasant, if you know what I mean. He was good-looking though, and I wanted him. But the thing is, he did… it to _me_, and I still don't really know…"

Kurt backed away, "I'm not having sex with you."

"You had sex with Karofsky." Kurt opened his mouth to cut him off, but Evan continued, "I can tell by the way he looks at you, either like he's about to cry or hit something. You must have given it him real good Hummel…I just want to experience it like you did."

"I didn't have sex with Karofsky. I don't like him." Kurt took another step back. Paused. "And he's not even gay."

"I hope you don't expect me to believe that last part." Kurt really didn't, but, _How?_

Kurt thought about the text message still in his cell phone inbox. _Courage. _He hadn't told Blaine what had really happened though. He didn't know, but Kurt swore that if he got out of this one, he'd tell his not-so-secret crush _everything._

Courage.

"I like someone else. We're dating. Sort-of." _One-third true. _

Evan smiled sweetly, sweetly like he thought Kurt was adorably naïve. Kurt knew that look, didn't like it. "He doesn't have to know."

"I don't want to." Kurt backed away until he felt the hard line of a wooden bench cut into his calves.

Evan pressed on forward so he stood directly in front of the other boy. He leaned his forehead against Kurt's. "I'll return the favor. We'll do whatever you want to then."

Kurt shoved against Evan's shoulders. He gave a way easier than Karofsky's had. Evan just wasn't as big or as strong. Kurt tried not to feel too hopeful. "The only thing I want to do is to leave this room."

"And that, Kurt, is your problem."

…

"_I'm not having sex with you."_

Dave couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was getting absolutely ridiculous. Did Hummel wear some strain of catnip for faggy jocks, or was he just that unlucky? Dave shook the thought away. This wasn't Hummel's fault. It was his. He made Kurt vulnerable to this. It was in the way he carried himself now; careful and afraid. It made him an easy target.

Dave watched the scene unfold, half hidden behind a red locker. He'd come back into the room to get his keys-which he had yet to locate- and came across this instead.

He didn't like the way Kurt looked; like he was on the verge of having a panic attack, his voice rising in pitch with every passing word.

"_I didn't have sex with Karofsky. I don't like him. And he's not even gay."_

It wasn't fair. This was _Dave's _fault, not Kurt's, and the damn kid stuck up for him anyway. Or maybe he was just ensuring the death threat wouldn't become a reality. Dave swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He couldn't believe he did that. _Any of it._ He shouldn't have taken those pills, he was just so frustrated...but they made everything seem alright, like he had all the answers. He wished he could say he didn't remember what he did to Kurt; that it never even happened at all.

"_The only thing I want to do is to leave this room."_

"_And that, Kurt, is your problem."_

Dave had heard enough. He stepped around the locker so he was facing the two other boys.

Kurt, unsurprising to Dave, noticed him first. Evan only realized his presence when all the flushed red skin of Kurt's face completely drained of color.

"Hi, Karofsky. Can I help you?"

Dave balled up his fist. _Playing innocent. Seriously?_ "Nope, just looking for my keys." He glanced casually over at Kurt. His averted eyes were dilated with fear, the blacks so large Dave couldn't tell what color they'd be in the florescent lighting. He imagined they'd be blue. Maybe gray. He wondered if the smaller boy was going to vomit. "You and Hummel here sound like you're having a serious conversation. Maybe one you shouldn't be having."

Evan let his eyes slide back to Kurt, his expression contemplative. "Doesn't matter. This conversation is over, right Kurt."

Kurt didn't respond, just kept his chin tucked into his neck like he usually did before someone threw him into a locker or got in his face about something. He didn't move until the hockey player had walked through the darkness and shut the locker room door shut behind him.

Karofsky looked at Kurt's dark figure and counted slowly. He got to seven before he couldn't wait any longer. "Kurt…"

"_Kurt…"_

As soon as Karofsky's low voice broke through the darkness of the boy's locker room Kurt unfroze. He didn't like this. He wasn't some little kid who was always backed into corners and tossed around and used. He was sick of it. All of it. Karofsky took a step forward.

"Back off, Karofsky. I mean it."

There must have been something in his voice, because the bully froze on the spot. In the dim light Kurt could just see the white rims of Karofsky's eyes. He looked wary, almost as if _he _was the prey and _Kurt_ the predator.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Kurt."

"Quit saying my name." Kurt took a step towards the door. "You're sick, you know that? You're all just sick and wrong. I'm gay, but that doesn't make me _anyone's _damn play-thing. You run around preaching how disgusting 'my kind' are, and then go grouping me when you finally get me alone? Maybe it's time to ask yourself what the Hell is wrong with _you._"

"I'm sorry."

…

"_Kurt…"_

As soon as Karofsky's low voice broke through the darkness of the boy's locker room Kurt unfroze. He didn't like this. He wasn't some little kid who was always backed into corners and tossed around and used. He was sick of it. All of it. Karofsky took a step forward.

"Back off, Karofsky. I mean it."

There must have been something in his voice, because the bully froze on the spot. In the dim light Kurt could just see the white rims of Karofsky's eyes. He looked wary, almost as if _he _was the prey and _Kurt_ the predator.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Kurt."

"Quit saying my name." Kurt took a step towards the door. "You're sick, you know that? You're all just sick and wrong. I'm gay, but that doesn't make me _anyone's _damn play-thing. You run around preaching how disgusting 'my kind' are, and then go groping me when you finally get me alone? Maybe it's time to ask yourself what the Hell is wrong with _you. _Half the time I see you, your either about to take out your anger on some other victim or you look so terrified you're about to break down." Kurt finally locked his wild eyes with the glassy ones of his long-running tormenter, "Is that it, Karofsky? You're afraid of what you are?" Kurt let out a high pitched laugh, "You're a fa-"

"I'm sorry."

Kurt closed his mouth with a sharp crack of his jaw. Karofsky took a timid step forwards and like a dance, Kurt took one back. The bigger boy froze at the movement. "Ku-, please, look, I'm sorry. For everything. I don't-. I never-. You're right, okay? I was scared. I still am, and confused. I just meant to kiss you. I swear, I just wanted to know. To really know if I'm…"

"A faggot?"

Karofsky wiped the moisture trailing down his cheeks, "Don't say that. I hate that word."

Kurt looked at funnily. "Yeah, so do I."

Dave watched Kurt as he walked to the locker room door, "You know, I wasn't going to tell anyone what happened, even without the death threat." And then Kurt was gone.

A minute too late, Dave added, "I know. But now I have to."

…

Kurt hadn't anticipated this turn of events. He wasn't supposed to be here, sitting in Mr. Figgins office across from his tormenter. Beside him, his father shifted his weight restlessly, his jean clad knee brushing against Kurt's before settling back into place. Burt never let his glare waver from the boy sitting across from his son. Kurt didn't look at either of them, though he could feel Karofsky occasionally throw him nervous glances.

He figured Finn was prowling somewhere outside the office, standing at the ready for any sudden attacks that Kurt knew wouldn't come. Not today. Not from Karofsky. Kurt wondered how much his step-brother would be able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Look," Dave began, "I asked for this meeting because I wanted to talk about what happened three months ago, and what's going on now…with Kurt."

"Karofsky…" Kurt warned. He knew exactly where this was going. "It's done."

"No, Kurt, it's not." Dave turned to address Principle Figgins, "Kurt complained about that new kid on the hockey team bugging him two weeks ago. The BullyWhips saw it, too, and we reported it. I, personally, reported it, and _nothing's been done._"

Kurt looked up, "I'm fine, thank you," He threw a hard glare at Dave, "and I don't need _your _help." At this Burt could have sworn the saw Karofsky flinch. "I can look out for myself."

"Funny, Hummel, it doesn't seem to work out very well for you, now does it? Or are you just forgetting the little problems you've been dealing with the last few weeks?" Karosfky snapped.

Burt jumped to his feet, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Shut up!"

"Mr. Hummel, Kurt, please settle down." Mr. Figgins interjected, "David, I appreciate your concern, but the faculty has been, and always will, look out for the type of behavior around campus. Kurt will be fine."

Karofsky locked eyes with the principle. "No one saved him from me. From what _I _did to him."

No one spoke. Burt slowly leaned back into his plastic chair. Once Karofsky was sure he had everyone's attention he began to speak again, "Three-."

"Wait." Kurt interjected. "Dave, please. _Please_, just don't."

Dave wondered if Kurt could tell how his pleading made him sick. The tone was too familiar. He shouldn't know the way it would sound coming from his lips. He swallowed, "I'm sorry, Kurt. You don't even know- you don't know how sorry I am."

"_I_ _do_. Let's just leave it at that. Okay? It's done."

_It's done._ The words seemed friendly, forgive and forget. _As if._ No, Dave had hurt Kurt, and not the bullying. He figured Hummel was more than used to that shit. But what he did, what Evan was _pushing…_ that was wrong. Sick, and not because Kurt was gay, but because Kurt didn't want it. _Just like he hadn't wanted me._

It was time to man-up. He had to do this. "But that's just it, Kurt. It isn't over. Not for you, not if you keep letting this happen…"

"I didn't just _let_ anything happen!"

"Kurt, that's not what I meant. Let me make this right."

"This isn't how it works, Karofsky! You owe me! You can't do this…"

"Just to protect you."

"I can protect myself, you ass." Kurt wasn't one for swearing, and anyone else might have found the language humorous coming from his lips. _You can't punch the gay out of me anymore than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!_ No, Dave didn't find it funny at all.

"I'm sorry. I have to make this right."

Kurt leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands knotted in his hair in a way Kurt never normally allowed.

Karofsky let his gaze fall to a stain of the blue carpeting. "Three months ago, Kurt told you that I threatened to kill him if he told anyone about the bullying. He lied. Even after what I did, he lied to protect me." Dave took a deep breath, "I pushed Kurt into the lockers, I mean, I always did stuff like that, but this time he followed me. Usually he just took it. He let me push him around, just not that time." Dave gave a small pause, "It was the worst time. I was angry and I was…" He pushed a hand against his forehead, "I was high. Completely messed up, and he followed me into the locker room and called me out for beating up on him. He told me I couldn't ever punch the gay out of him. I couldn't do anything to change who he was. He called me a coward. I told him not to push me, to just drop it. He was making me so frustrated. I was so sick of hiding. Of hiding who I was." Dave looked towards his stone-like father, "Of who _I am._"

"It was just a kiss, Karosfky." Kurt said softly. He didn't look mad now, just worn. Dave wondered if he would just give in and admit what Evan was doing to him.

Dave tried to be patient, speaking softly and slow as he would to a child, "No Kurt, it wasn't.

…

Dave didn't like the way Kurt's father was looking at him. At this point, he was ready to run for it. He figured the only reason he hadn't taken off was the anchor Kurt was laying on him with his eyes. He looked…tired. Like the fight had been washed away by Dave's resolve. Dave didn't particularly like that. It just felt like he was taking advantage of Kurt again_. Emotionally, physically, psychologically_... Dave had really done it to the kid. _Never again_, he vowed. "I never meant for it to be like that, Kurt. I was just…I don't know. I was crazy."

"David…" His father whispered, "What did you do to him?" The older man looked ill. Karofsky didn't blame him. _You're sick. _He felt ready to vomit too.

_Maybe it's time to ask yourself what the Hell is wrong with _you.

A scratched bottle of unmarked pills.

_Take a few, man. You're too tense lately. Wait until later though. These things mess you up. _Dave didn't wait.

_You're sick. _

Squirming body, all warm skin and glassy-eyes.

His mouth tasted like chalk. Dry and thick. Hummel's didn't. He tasted like mint and apples and Diet Coke. His lips were softer than any girls Dave had ever kissed. It felt good. _He _felt good.

Kurt's eyes hung on to his. Dave's father towered over him, red-faced and panicked. "David, tell me what you did to that boy!"

And he did. All of it and everything; before and after. _No more secrets. _Burt tensed every time Dave said Kurt's name, but his father didn't so much as flinch when he talked about the dreams or watching other guys as they passed him in the hall. He told them about the drugs, that all he really just wanted was to escape for a little while. _Anything _to make it not real for a moment.

Then the day he pushed Kurt one time too many. The day Dave cornered him in the locker room and assaulted him. _Terrified _him.

"I'm sorry." He must have said it twenty times. "I'm so, so sorry."

Dave never let his eyes waiver from Kurt's. The boy held Dave's eyes like Burt was holding on to Kurt's wrist. Neither one of them could break away. Neither really wanted too.

Finally, when Dave was done, Kurt dropped his gaze and allowed his face to fall into his football-callused palms. His face was wet and swollen, but his body was still, tensed as if waiting for the lash of a waiting belt.

"Kurt, is that what happened?" Mr. Figgin's voice was soft, but Dave knew it was only for Kurt's sake.

Kurt rose to his feet, his eyes dry as they roamed over Dave's hunched form. "Yes," he answered. "That's it. That's everything."

He moved towards the office exit, not even looking vaguely uncomfortable with the majority of the eyes in the room on him. Burt, his hand still wrapped around his son's wrist, followed. "Don't think this is over." He warned. Dave knew it was a promise, not a threat.

Kurt reached for the door handle and paused. "And Dave?"

The football player didn't look up from his large hands. He felt himself breaking, cracking like fine glass. All Kurt had to do was give the final shove to tip the balance he was clinging to. Tears ran down his face, unstoppable and useless.

"I forgive you."

…

**Okay. So I don't completely like it and I know it needs ahellafah lot of work. So. By all means, send some serious analytical feedback my way. **

**-KydChyme **


End file.
